


Terms of Corruption

by cakeisatruth



Series: Terms of Corruption [1]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blue Hawke (Dragon Age), Mixed Media, Modern Retelling, Pop Culture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:54:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25290472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cakeisatruth/pseuds/cakeisatruth
Summary: In the winter of 2006, the Fifth Blight sweeps through Ferelden, killing dozens of people and displacing thousands more. Among the latter group is nineteen-year-old Kendall Hawke, who flees to Kirkwall with her loved ones and some simple goals: establish residency, help her brother support the family, and handle the delicate matter of her apostate sister. What follows instead pulls her closer and closer to the epicenter of Kirkwall’s feuding, a chaos threatening to tear the city apart.A twenty-first century retelling of Dragon Age 2. Features AU elements and a pro-templar, diplomatic Hawke. Tags added as they become relevant.
Series: Terms of Corruption [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843171
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks [blackjackkent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackjackKent) for beta work.
> 
> Pictures of this Hawke family can be found on [my Tumblr!](https://cindymeltzer.tumblr.com/tagged/kendall%20hawke)

_January 2006_

**READY FERELDEN: Fifth Blight Updates**

**UPDATED 1.25.2006 @ 10:12 AM**

**NO EVACUATION ORDERS HAVE BEEN LIFTED**

**Mandatory Evacuations**

City of Ostagar - All areas  
Hinterlands County - South to Korcari Wilds

**Voluntary Evacuations**

Southron Hills - East to Brecilian Forest  
Bannorn County - All areas  
Hinterlands County - Unincorporated areas not included above

**IMPERIAL HWY IS CLOSED IN BOTH DIRECTIONS AT ITHUR CIRCLE TO AMNAWIN COURT**

**_See information on evacuation shelters below…_**

* * *

_You have [1] unread message._

[Emergency Alert]: The entire Bannorn County is now under MANDATORY EVACUATION due to the Fifth Blight. All non-essential personnel are required to leave the area immediately. DANGER IS IMMINENT. See Ready Ferelden website for more information.

* * *

_You have [5] unread messages._

[Peaches]: Are you and your brother safe??

[Fritz]: just heard about the evac, u ok?

[Hyacinth]: Please let us know you’re okay when you get a chance!

[Gamlen]: KENDALL! TELL YOUR MOTHER TO ANSWER HER PHONE!

[Michaele]: Just got to Amaranthine, where are you?

* * *

[Kendall Hawke - @All] Family safe. More info later

* * *

It should have felt final, Kendall thought numbly as she resettled the dog’s cage at her feet. The mabari inside whimpered, trying to paw at her through the bars as she shushed him in what she hoped was a reassuring way. This whole thing should have felt more real, not as if she were watching a movie or having a very strange dream.

She shook her hair out of her face, throwing an apologetic look over her shoulder when a few braids nearly hit Carver. Her brother barely seemed to notice; he was leaning against the window, trying to drift off. She couldn’t help feeling grateful for the way he was slumped over, a small mercy because it made it easier not to notice the last remains of Lothering disappearing behind them. But she couldn’t ignore the furtive looks from her mother, who sat with one arm wrapped around Carver, the other hand gripping her seat cushion tightly.

Finally, Leandra could stay silent no longer. “Bethany, don’t you want to sit in a real chair?” she asked her younger daughter, who was sitting on top of the blue suitcase with a shoulder bag on her lap. But Bethany shook her head, putting her hand through the grill of the dog’s crate to scratch him behind the ears.

“I’m fine, Mother,” she promised, her voice barely more than a whisper. Kendall knew her well enough to know her sister was worried sick, but she said nothing.

“ _Attention. The next stop is South Reach. Doors will open on the left._ ”

Kendall cast her gaze over to Carver, who didn’t move. Going from Ostagar to Lothering had been a whirlwind - falling back from the front lines bit by bit, then letting themselves melt into the dwindling group of soldiers until they could turn tail and run - then hitting the road with a thumb out, knowing it would be faster than waiting for the next train to reach their small village… It was no wonder he’d crashed as soon as they were relatively safe. She wished she could have said the same for herself; she’d never slept well in moving vehicles.

The train lurched to a stop and Bethany turned, pulling at her sister’s slacks as though she were four years old. “Can you check?” she almost whispered. “Are we all right?”

“They won’t arrest you for looking out,” Kendall answered under her breath, but leaned over to see. “We’re fine. Not many people out there.”

Bethany shuffled her feet and nodded. She readjusted the bag on her lap, then pawed through it aimlessly. The train must be near filled to capacity, Kendall thought, but they’d been lucky to grab an empty compartment where the chairs stank of sweat and piss. Good for all of them - just not their noses.

The doors hissed shut again, and with an unsteady rocking, they were off towards Gwaren. In his crate, the dog whimpered, then barked sharply.

“Harlan. Hush.” Kendall strained to listen to what was going on in the next car, trying to determine where the various sets of footsteps were heading. Most were off in the other direction, but a few were hanging around.

Another bark from the dog as the train car’s doors opened, and Kendall had to refocus on quieting him. Bethany turned away, pulling her hood up to hide her face - could she _be_ any more obvious?

Most of the crowd stamped right on by, sufficiently deterred by the smell lingering in the car, though talking loudly amongst themselves. Again Kendall threw a glance towards her brother. They’d done this when they served in the army together, not people-watching but people- _listening_ , seeing who could pick up on the most unusual chatter. She tried now, just to amuse herself:

“I told him to take pictures for the insurance company, but he isn’t sure he got - ”

“ - not like we can _make_ a Dalish clan evacuate, that’s what I told her. But you know the Chief…”

“Stop squirming, Wesley, you’ll make it worse.”

“Papa, they have a doggie! Look! Look!”

At this she straightened, unable to resist offering a quick smile to the child being whisked away by her father. Someone behind them tripped and came down in the aisle with a thump, but the crowd simply trooped onward, single-file where they needed to.

When the group thinned, Kendall was able to see two stragglers, a man and woman - a married couple? She could tell from a glance the man was dying, based on the tell-tale signs of the darkspawn taint. Tendrils of rot like black veins crawled up his ashen face, and his eyes were dull and sunken. Even the gash in one shoulder of his police uniform was still evident. Had he been wearing it since he was bitten?

She raised an eyebrow at her mother, who gave the barest nod. Being careful didn’t mean you had to be heartless. Kendall rose and held up an arm, as if hailing a taxi.

“Excuse me?” she called, and waited until they looked up. “We’ve got seats. You look like you need to sit down.”

The red-haired woman looked at her, contemplating briefly, then nodded. “Thank you.” Slinging the man’s arm over her shoulders, she helped him to his feet without so much as a grunt of effort. “Did they say how long it would be to Gwaren?”

Kendall didn’t answer, for now that the couple had moved, she was staring at what she hadn’t seen before. His armband and the empty holster at his hip both held the image of a flaming sword, signaling his branch of the police force. Here they got a few miles from home, and she let down her guard. _Stupid._

“An hour twenty,” Bethany said behind her, having emerged from the protection of her jacket. She shot her older sister a meaningful look. _Don’t be so obvious_ , it said.

 _Yes, far be it from me to protect you. I’ve only been at it for nine and a half years._ Kendall nudged the dog’s cage aside, moving him out of reach as the templar struggled into a seat. Harlan whimpered, but made no move to protest the new arrivals.

“A lot of syringes for the average family,” the templar said, not bothering with a word of thanks before he glared at the bag in Bethany’s lap - and Maker, really, she had left it open?

“It’s medical. For insulin,” Bethany replied patiently. She indicated where her sleeve had ridden up, exposing the lie of a medical alert bracelet their father had once worn: _Type 1 Diabetes_.

He scoffed, not even sparing it a glance. “Last I checked, insulin didn’t make a person reek of lyrium. The Order dictates - ”

“Drop dead, would you?” Carver spat, not opening his eyes.

“Let me translate.” Kendall gave Carver a look. “What my brother _means_ is, he’s trained in first aid against the Blight, and would be happy to help tide you over until we reach Gwaren. Isn’t that right?” The chances of it being helpful at this stage were slim to none, but it was the sort of thing desperate people took a chance on.

“Are you?” The woman’s voice betrayed her hope.

“Sure,” Carver said, pulling himself upright with a put-upon sigh. “Recruit me.”

She looked to her husband, pleading. “Dear, they can help us.” When he hesitated, she laid a hand on his free shoulder. “The Maker understands,” she said.

Not until the templar released his held breath and muttered, “Of course,” did Carver get to his feet. With a relieved look, the woman went on speaking.

“I am Aveline Vallen. This is my husband, Ser Wesley.” She swiped at a lock of hair that had come free of her headband. “We can hate each other when we’re safe from the horde.”

Carver had already begun to wrestle with the bite wound. Even without getting up close and personal, it was obviously deep, the skin mangled and starting to fester. Now and then, there were reports of some unfortunate animal who had caught a bite of a tainted human and lived to spread the infection to others, but Kendall knew that couldn’t be what had happened here. No bat or squirrel could have done that kind of damage.

“It was one of the darkspawn that got you, then?” she asked as gently as she could.

“A Hurlock, I think. But I took its head off,” Wesley managed, grimacing. “We should be nearly past them. They can’t have come as far south as this.”

Carver shook his head. “We aren’t free of them yet. Just like at Ostagar, this is just the start. Beth - the first aid kit’s in that suitcase. Could you - ?”

“You were there?” Aveline didn’t give them time to answer. “Yes, I see it now. Third company, under Captain Varel.” It could just have easily been a guess, Kendall thought. Nearly all the survivors had been from third company, their position giving them a buffer against the darkspawn. The deaths of so many others had bought them enough time to save their own lives. She tried not to think about it.

Carver nodded. “Then you saw how the whole of the army was defeated.”

Aveline frowned. “We fell to betrayal, not the darkspawn. This arm of the horde - ” A hand waved in the direction of the window to specify. “ - will not have the same advantage.”

Kendall saw Carver’s jaw tighten, but he took the kit wordlessly from his twin and went on working.

“ _Attention. The next stop is Brecilia. Doors will open on the left._ ”

Fewer people boarded here - the town was hardly bigger than Lothering - and Kendall found herself grateful for the injured templar in a twisted way. No one else would bother or question while this was on display. Still, their compartment remained silent until the train had started moving again.

“Are you flying out, too?” Kendall asked, mainly to break the discomfort in the room.

“When we can.” Aveline looked again to her husband. “The hospital in Gwaren, first. I won’t chance a flight without proper treatment.”

“Right,” Carver said, a bit more loudly than necessary as he fished around for a disinfectant. “This will hold a few hours.”

She eyed him, and her voice was so level Kendall knew she must have held a position of authority when she’d served. “We’re not ungrateful,” Aveline said slowly, evenly. “But getting on a flight to Kirkwall could take days, and this isn’t a disease to be toyed with. I’m sure you know the risks…”

 _Kirkwall_ was the first thing Kendall’s mind hung onto; she exchanged a look with her sister. _For the love of unlucky coincidences._ Kirkwall was the one place they had family - an uncle they admittedly hardly spoke to - and citizenship. And there were safeguards that had been in place since before Kendall was walking, ones Mother told them about: Uncle Gamlen had a huge estate, one that wouldn’t feel crowded even with ten or fifteen people living there, and in the basement safe were copies of the children’s birth certificates - the documents they’d lost when the Blight drove them out.

But flying out wasn’t a certain thing yet. No - it was all but impossible unless some twist of fate saved them. Their passports had expired more than five years ago, but with the right bribe, you could get people to look the other way. Having a wealthy relative helped, provided he answered the phone…

She kept herself from grimacing, as she’d been doing reflexively every time she remembered. Gwaren should be safer than here. If the darkspawn came that far there’d be another way...

She eyed Wesley’s gaunt face, the drool hanging off his mouth. _You know the risks,_ Aveline had said. Kendall had heard it, and now the meaning caught up with her. Carver knew as well as she did this templar wouldn’t be making it to Kirkwall. That there was no point treating him if you weren’t hoping to score enough brownie points to keep your apostate sister out of the Circle.

It was Aveline’s turn to break the silence. “Will you be going far?”

“The Marches,” Kendall said flatly. No point in giving away more exact details than she had to.

Aveline didn’t pry. “There are more of us who escaped the army than I expected. Had you been enlisted long?”

“Three months.” She felt like a child, admitting to it. “We enlisted together when he turned eighteen.”

They passed the time that way, with idle small talk that stopped just short of identifying a family outside the law. Inside of fifteen minutes, Carver had finished the treatment that had been a waste of time from the start. It made Aveline’s expression clear a little with relief and Kendall felt bad, momentarily, for giving her hope. Dwelling there was no good, not when everything was determined.

From Brecilia the forests thinned slowly, finally bursting out into a clearing and then the city. Not getting sucked in proved impossible; Kendall’s eyes were locked on the view out the window. It being Gwaren was interesting enough, but in truth, any large city could have captured her. Streets with three and four lanes to a side, the glow of signs advertising shops and restaurants, apartment buildings that must be fifty stories at least…

“It’s bigger than anywhere close to Lothering, isn’t it?” Bethany murmured, her thoughts clearly on a similar path.

“That’s not a high bar.” From their farm it had been twenty miles to the nearest convenience store. Here in Gwaren, she was only seeing it from the window of a train and yet there was so much, more than she could believe. Everything you could want or need had its own building, and hardly a square foot of space was wasted. Billboards clamored for attention, drowned out by the ads projected onto skyscrapers far above their heads. Oh, if they had to stay in Gwaren, this couldn’t be so terrible. The way the world came to life here - she could have soaked it up for days and not been done.

“ _Attention. The next stop is Gwaren International Airport. Doors will open on the right. This train will terminate here. All passengers must disembark at Gwaren._ ”

With the announcement, she became a refugee again, without a home or much of a plan. Kendall stood once the train had calmed, and gripped Harlan’s kennel. He’d been dozing before but now began to whine, unsure of the noise as people unloaded.

Aveline hadn’t moved yet. “Well,” she said with a long exhale, “that’s it, then.” Again she took Wesley’s arm around her shoulders and moved to help him stand, but this time they both staggered, nearly going down before she righted them.

“Come on,” Kendall said to them. “We’ll help you get a taxi.” By the time the templar and his wife had stopped being a threat, the Hawkes should have the information they needed - she hoped.

“I’ll make another call to Gamlen. There’s no word from him yet,” Leandra said, speaking for the first time since they’d met the couple. “Kendall - hold onto your sister.”

With her free hand, Kendall wound a few fingers around the strap of the bag Bethany carried. Was it her imagination, or were people moving away from them? They couldn’t _all_ be templars sensing the magic -

Wesley stumbled again behind them and understanding dawned. _They’re afraid._ For once, a templar was giving them protection, keeping the attention off. She felt a sort of grim joy in it.

“I must - ” he managed, and then Kendall heard him go down, a mild commotion following around them. Harlan gave a startled howl.

“Quiet,” Kendall said to him, helping Aveline pull her husband into a seated position against the wall. “Should we call an ambulance?”

The voice that answered her was at first sharp, then smooth like butter. “Oh, you have no need for that.”

“What do you mean?” Kendall demanded, suitably taken aback. “Harlan, _quiet_!” The dog had given another long howl beside her, unimpressed by this new person.

She was tall, towering above even Carver, with her gray-white hair twisted into something resembling horns that gave her the appearance of a comic book character. Metal adorned her face, a gaudy amulet fit around her neck, and her dress flowed out quite impractically. It wouldn’t do to be talking to this woman when you wanted to not attract attention.

The woman shrugged, tipping her head towards Wesley. “If you wish to outsmart the darkspawn, you should know there is nothing here for you.”

“Gwaren has a teaching hospital,” Aveline protested impatiently. “There’s an experiment, a protocol…”

Their new acquaintance seemed almost amused. “And they would have resources to spare for such a thing, on a man frothing at the mouth? The rabid and tainted are triaged for last - and Gwaren’s emergency department is overwhelmed.”

“That isn’t - he’s had first aid! Post-exposure!” Aveline glared at Carver, as if this were somehow his fault.

“So, the hospital at Gwaren won’t work,” Kendall said quickly. Her only goal at this point was to be rid of the strange-looking woman somehow, and start thinking up a new plan. She turned to Aveline. “You were hoping to fly out anyway. They’ll have more room in Kirkwall, more chance to try.”

The stranger shook her head, that damned smile still on her face. “Such an illness on a commercial plane? What will they think of next?”

Wesley coughed, as if he wanted to speak up. For a moment Kendall thought he would, but there was only the sharp rhythm of breathing, labored now.

Carver glowered at the newcomer. “If you’re not going to help, why come here?”

She grinned, and it made Kendall want to yell at her for mocking them on top of wasting their time. “Tell me, child,” she said instead of answering, “how do you wish to outrun the Blight?”

“We need to get to Kirkwall.” Bethany spoke up. Either she had realized for herself there was no danger of saying it in front of Wesley, or she was too desperate to care. “Our passports are long expired and…” She trailed off, apparently uncomfortable with speaking out of concern for a templar.

“Kirkwall?” The woman looked mildly interested now. “Your king will not miss you, hmm?” And _how_? How did she know these things? Going AWOL wasn’t exactly legal, that was true. Still, these were extraordinary circumstances. Most of the army had been eaten by darkspawn - which meant sorting out the casualties could take months - and all but a tiny fraction of the survivors had fled the scene. Anyone who would have bothered trying to locate them would have more important matters on their mind now, with no Grey Wardens and no king.

Kendall shrugged, gathering her courage for a biting response. “I’m sure he’ll miss his life more.”

To her relief, the woman laughed. “Oh, you I like!” she said with a grin. “Hurtled into the chaos, you fight…and the world will shake before you.” She stroked her chin, turning away to think. “Is it fate or chance? I can never decide.”

She was definitely unstable, Kendall decided. In another setting, she might have risked shouting and making a big fuss. Draw enough attention to people like this, and they usually turned tail and ran. But she couldn't do that here and now.

Carver scooted closer to hiss into his sister’s ear, apparently thinking something similar. “This is mad, she has to - "

“It appears fortune smiles on us both today.” The woman turned around again, cutting him off. “I may be able to help you yet.”

_Help us? A virtual stranger? This is as sketchy as it gets._

“Maybe we shouldn’t trust her,” Bethany said hesitantly, looking to her siblings. “I don’t even know who she is.”

“I know _what_ she is.” Aveline touched her own collarbone, indicating the amulet. “The Witch of the Wilds. No one else wears that.”

The woman waved it off. “Some call me that. Also Flemeth. _Asha’bellanar._ An ‘old hag who talks too much’!” She grinned again. “Does it matter? I offer you this: I will get your group to Kirkwall in exchange for a simple delivery to a place not far out of your way. Would you do this for a ‘Witch of the Wilds’?”

Airfare for a delivery? There had to be a catch in it somewhere, but Kendall wasn’t stupid enough to ask outright. “What is a Witch of the Wilds, exactly?” she asked, stalling to give herself time to think.

“A Chasind legend,” Aveline said without skipping a beat. “Witches that steal children.” Her expression said she didn’t find it very convincing.

“Bah!” Flemeth shook her head, amused. “As if I had nothing better to do!”

But Bethany’s attention had been captured. “You’re an apostate?” she asked, her voice barely there.

“Yes.” Flemeth leaned in closer, lowering her voice until Kendall had to strain to hear. “Just like you.”

Kendall looked around. “Should we trust her?” she asked no one in particular.

Aveline’s response was immediate. “This is Wesley’s only chance.”

Her husband coughed again, harder. “If you need to - ” He pulled in another breath. “ - leave me behind.”

“No!” Aveline snapped. Kendall knew she was far from accepting what Wesley had come to terms with. “I said I would drag you out if I had to, and I meant it!”

Kendall looked at the twins, at her mother, and saw in their expressions what she already knew. They would have to figure out the catch behind this request later; this might be their only chance to escape to Kirkwall if Uncle Gamlen didn’t come through.

“We’ll accept,” she said reluctantly to the witch. “We don’t have much choice.”

“We never do.” Flemeth tipped her head, then reached behind her neck to unfasten the amulet. “There is a clan of Dalish elves near the city of Kirkwall. Deliver this amulet to their Keeper, Marethari. Do as she asks with it and any debt between us is paid in full.”

Clutching the chain in her hands, Kendall eyed what she’d been given. Her father must be turning over in his grave. Hadn’t he told her never to trust what was obviously a magical artifact? Didn’t she know how many warriors with ten times her training had fallen prey to possession in just this way? And what if this Marethari asked for something that would put them in even worse danger…?

 _It’s a ticket. It’s just a flight pass. Besides, we’ve got no other choice._ She stuck it in her pocket.

“It gets no easier,” Flemeth said.

“What?”

“It gets no easier,” the witch repeated. “Your struggles have only just begun.” She smiled in that grandmotherly way and reached out, as if to cup Kendall’s face (and Kendall leaned back a little without meaning to), but she didn’t. She simply dropped her hand and looked to the group. “Your departure can be arranged for - hmm, let’s call it an hour from now.”

 _Absolutely unstable. I must be losing my mind to go along with this._ Kendall looked at her traveling companions again, half-hoping someone else would speak up. The fact that they didn’t made her feel a little less ridiculous.

“Good. Thank you,” she said after a moment, opting to keep the peace. She rose to her feet and when the witch was gone, she turned to Carver. “Do you have the leash?”

“The - ?” He looked down into the carrier. “Should be there. On his collar.”

“I have to take him out. Just quickly before we go. Here, trade you.” She thrust the amulet at him and he took it without hesitation.

“Oh, _Kendall_ ,” Leandra said.

“I’ll be fast. Thirty minutes at the most.” She’d give him a short run, some water and a chance to do his business, and then they should be all right for the trip and…whatever was ahead. Whenever Gamlen answered.

The crowd getting off the train had mostly dispersed by this point. There would be some time before the next one came. Wrapping the leash once around her wrist, she led Harlan out at a slow, loping jog.

She’d meant for this to be a chance to give herself a bit of breathing room, to think over what the witch had said. But when she turned the corner and the city burst into view in front of her, all other thoughts were wiped clean. Kendall smiled at the breeze when cars rushed past - no horses or beat-up trucks traveling slowly down a dirt road here. And the number of people! You could stay here for hours, pacing or window shopping, and blend in so easily! If not for the time pressure, she might have been tempted to try.

Flemeth...the amulet...there was nothing to be done about any of it now. They had a way to get to Kirkwall, and there would be time to figure out a way forward once they’d gotten settled. For now, she had thirty minutes to soak up the atmosphere in Gwaren. Witches and legends and magical artifacts could wait.

* * *

One hour to departure, a two-hour flight, and the sky was full dark when the plane landed. It had been a little puddle-jumper, ten seats and just the six of them. No one had even objected to them taking the dog in; whatever Flemeth had done, Kendall had to admit they owed her.

Aveline had been silent through the journey, intermittently murmuring little soft things to her husband, or checking pulse and breathing. Kendall stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt her. When wheels touched ground, Aveline stood rather abruptly, pushing a bit of paper into Kendall’s hand.

“Call me when you get in. We’ll help make sure nothing happens,” she said by way of explanation, sliding her gaze over to Bethany. Kendall could only nod in surprise - she’d figured on more of the endless years of dodging and hiding they’d had in Lothering, on never seeing Aveline again and _hoping_ not to.

She wanted to ask, to say something, but they were gone - hospital in Kirkwall, no time to waste. Clinging to hope in a situation where there was none. How many others were doing the same?

The airport here was thick with people, and though it wasn’t as full as Gwaren, it came pretty close. It took more than a half-dozen tries to get enough cell phone signal to make a call, and then Gamlen didn’t pick up.

“You have the address, right?” Kendall asked her mother. “What if we just go?”

Leandra shook her head. “The taxi fare will be more after dark and it’s much too far to walk. What if he isn’t home? We’ll be stuck on the streets of Hightown all night.”

“So we’ll just keep calling?”

“Until it gets too late. If we don’t hear from him by the morning, we’ll go anyway.”

By the third unanswered call, Kendall knew it would be a night in the airport. A motel wasn’t even a consideration; even if there had been the cash for it, she doubted any would have a vacancy with this many refugees around.

_We’re part of them too, now._

But they weren’t exactly, not like all the others. Somehow she felt they belonged in a different category. In the morning they’d call up Gamlen again and when he answered, they’d go back to what Mother had left all those years ago: the enormous mansion, the excess of wealth, things Kendall could only dream of.

Strange, she thought. Gamlen had been so insistent on knowing they’d made it, but now that they were heading towards him, he just vanished. What was the logic in that? But she’d never met the man, so there was no way to know.

She pulled the straps of the shoulder bag together, tying them before she pushed her arms through. That would be enough protection against thieves for now. Satisfied, she lay her head down and waited for sleep to come.

* * *

 **Cousland Children Still Missing in Aftermath of Tragedy  
** by Ashtyn Freeman

Two weeks ago, in  a story that shook Ferelden to its core, Teryn Bryce Cousland and his wife Teyrna Eleanor were found murdered in their own home. A movement to capture the primary suspect is still ongoing.

Equally concerning to detectives is the status of the Teryn’s two children. Their older son Fergus was originally thought to have been present in the estate that night, but investigators later determined he departed just hours before to lead the family’s forces to Highever. He has not been found.

Fergus’s wife and young son are confirmed to have been killed in the attack.

Authorities also continue their attempts to locate the Teryn’s younger child, Elvira, who was last seen fleeing the castle alongside the Grey Warden Duncan. They are believed to have been headed for Ostagar.

Individuals with any information on the case are encouraged to contact the non-emergency police line as soon as possible. There is a cash reward offered for substantial leads.


	2. Chapter 2

_Early 2006_

Nineteen was supposed to be too young for your back to hurt, sleeping on the floor or not. Now she just had to get her muscles to understand that. 

Twisting awkwardly, Kendall made an attempt to wriggle one arm into her sleeve as the other was occupied with brushing her teeth. _Maybe get my brain to understand how to stop oversleeping, too, while I’m at it_. She couldn’t afford to miss the bus again, that old grouch she had for a boss would -

Her sister’s voice interrupted this thought pattern. “Haven’t you got to get going?”

“I’m _trying_.” She spat out the toothpaste and wiped her mouth before she turned around, making an effort not to scowl. Bethany, whose finger prick would fail any pre-employment test, had begun mothering her siblings more than their actual mother did.

She was standing in the doorway, holding Kendall’s shoes. “Let me help?” Bethany suggested. “Here, sit down.”

Kendall sat on the leaky air mattress, taking her shoes, and began to tie the laces. She could feel Bethany’s fingers working behind her, twisting Kendall’s hair into its usual small braids. As children in Ferelden, they’d learned early on that long hair left loose was a nuisance for any farmer. They just hadn’t expected one of them would still be farming all the way out here in Kirkwall.

“There.” Bethany clapped her on the back. “Don’t miss your bus.”

“Thanks!” Kendall was halfway out the door by the time the word left her mouth. Her bus was at the stop, doors open. She ran to catch up with the crowd, barely snagging a seat.

_Riding a broken-down bus to this shit job every day? Not what I expected from Kirkwall._

Maker, how had everything changed so quickly, fallen apart so fast? She’d thought of herself as experienced with moving, but that had all been as a very young child; they’d stayed in Lothering since she was nine. In those early years she hadn’t known to expect anything different, hadn’t even realized it wasn’t normal to always keep your bags ready in case templars swept through the area with no warning.

The last really frantic escape had been when she was newly six and the twins just five. Her mother, carrying a sleeping Carver, had jolted the girls awake hours after bedtime and hustled them into the old station wagon. She’d settled all three kids in the back under their comforters and they’d spent the night on the road. The twins slept steadily, but Kendall cried until she’d been pacified with her father’s Discman and a set of headphones. Then she’d napped fitfully, on and off, the music drowning out her parents’ hushed conversation.

That hadn’t been the last move, but after that they’d had at least a few days’ warning each time. By the time they got to Lothering, hiding had become an art form, right down to adding a secret entrance to the cellar. And every time, the moves had seemed so much easier than this one.

_Well, they probably weren’t, not really._ She’d been a little child, and not privy to all of the logistics. But even so…

They’d been fleeing bad circumstances when they came to Kirkwall, and wound up in an unfortunate situation. That was no different from any of the other moves. The only difference this time was they’d expected more.

In the space of a few days, everything had fallen apart. The family estate was long gone, sold years ago to pay off some of her uncle’s gambling debt. And the safe, the damned safe that held the birth certificates for all three Hawke children, was gone with it. Kendall bit the bullet their second full day in Kirkwall, standing in an endless line at the embassy, to no avail.

_“Well, serah, this passport expired in 2000. I’m afraid we can’t use that. Just fill out this form and come back here with a current photo ID, and we’ll get you set up.”_

As if that was so easy. She rubbed her forehead in exasperation. Her license and Carver’s (Beth had never had one) were somewhere in the rubble of Lothering. To get a new license, you needed your national identification card, which you couldn’t get without a birth certificate, and for a copy of that you needed photo ID. Then there was proof of residency. Gamlen’s one-bedroom apartment was only supposed to hold a maximum of three; proving that five lived there would have them all evicted…

Appearances mattered more than reality; that was the point. If you looked like an undocumented immigrant, and you sounded like an undocumented immigrant, your best option was to make use of the skills you’d learned growing up on a farm in Ferelden. There was always someone who needed crops harvested, and you got paid by how much you picked - then some for washing, at the end. That was a small mercy, because by the end of the day everyone was covered in sweat, streaked with dirt, and exhausted. At least it was a reason to sit down for a few minutes.

Speaking of excuses to sit down, in the evenings, that could even make her grateful for the bus. It wasn’t the safest or the fastest commute (going there and back ate up a little over three hours of the day), but at least she didn’t have to transfer. Carver wasn’t that lucky.

They _must_ have apostates working for them, Kendall mused, as she did every time she saw the acres of farmland. In Lothering, when no one was looking, Father could make the soil richer and the plants straighter. He’d even known how to heal the neighbor’s pony, a few times. And the Hawkes’ farm had been many times smaller than any of the ones out here.

Or maybe they hired mages from the Circle. They called it the Gallows here (the name a holdover from a time before the mage rights movements). That was where Father had escaped from after he met Mother. From the rare occasions he’d spoken of it, Kendall knew the people of Kirkwall sometimes hired a mage or two here and there when they needed a job done, like heavy lifting or mass watering.

The bus screeched to a stop and she tried to mentally steel herself for another day, already knowing it wouldn’t be much help. _Might as well face the task at hand._

She just had to think of it as another day closer to getting out of this mess. Pay enough money and you could get the right officials to look the other way. Every bit of cash in her hands when she got back was progress towards their own home and their own lives. Maybe if she focused hard enough on that, it wouldn’t be so bad.

Mentally, she shook her head. _And maybe if I imagine Lothering the way it was, the darkspawn will all vanish into nothing._

* * *

The first time she’d counted her pitiful savings and had it come up short of what she was expecting, she’d dismissed it as her own error. The second time, faced with the evidence her uncle hadn’t quite kicked his gambling habit, Kendall had emptied out a box of tampons to use as a makeshift bank. 

So far, the idea was holding up. She counted the wadded-up bills carefully, making sure the total was the same as it had been that morning. It was all there, and now she could add the money from today.

After replacing the box, she rushed through a shower, managing to finish before the water went from lukewarm to freezing. With her hair wrapped in a towel, she padded out to check her email, but drew up short. Aveline was sitting on the couch in the front room, politely eyeing something Bethany was showing her.

“Hello,” Aveline said before Kendall could slip back out gracefully.

“Sorry. I didn’t know you were here.” Kendall shifted awkwardly, hyper-aware of her thrift store sweatpants and ratty shirt. To Bethany she asked, “What’re you doing?”

“Showing Aveline where we lived in Lothering.” Bethany held out the photo album. “I called when you came in, but I guess you didn’t hear.”

“No. It was a long day.” She eyed the album, recognizing this tactic. Father had done something similar when he met templars in Ferelden, slipping his wife and children into conversation, showing off the family photo he kept in his wallet. If they only knew a man as an apostate, he’d said, they’d arrest him in a second. But if they knew him as a loving husband and devoted father first, they might think twice. Kendall privately thought of it as a dirty trick, but she never could put her finger on why.

“I can’t say I know the area,” Aveline admitted. “I’ve only ever passed through.”

Bethany glanced at her. “When you boarded the train so close to Lothering, I wondered - but Wesley wasn’t based out of that chantry, was he? I don’t remember seeing him there.”

“He served elsewhere. He was coming to find me at Ostagar.” Aveline paused, studying her. “Were you familiar with every templar in Lothering?”

“How else was I supposed to know when to run and hide?” Bethany said wryly.

Kendall didn’t add that it had been a rural area, where everyone knew everyone anyway, and only a handful of templars were needed to corral the mages. She was watching the tired sag of Aveline’s posture. “Well - I’m glad you came by. Do you have a minute?”

Aveline nodded.

“I should get the cleaning done, anyway.” Bethany put the album down. “Oh - Mother said to tell you she’d be back by six-thirty.”

“Okay.” Kendall nodded in acknowledgement. As soon as the two of them were alone, she sat next to Aveline, keeping her voice low. “How are you? How’s Wesley?”

Aveline ran her hands down her face, not making eye contact. “He passed three days ago in hospital,” she managed.

They’d all known it was coming, but what did it matter? “I’m so sorry.”

Aveline jerked her head down once. “I came by to see your brother. I wanted to thank him for what he did on the train, but he wasn’t home.” The barest hint of a smile came to her face. “And your sister seemed to want the company.”

“He works swing shift. Stocking shelves,” Kendall said, ignoring the last bit. “But what about you? Are you…all right?”

“You don’t have to coddle me.” Aveline’s mouth set in a firm line. “I am where I am.”

The photo album was still open on the couch, and Kendall looked at it, mostly to have somewhere to put her eyes. It was an old picture taken on an instant camera, ostensibly showing off the dining room they’d had in Lothering. Her ten-year-old self grinned at them upside down. Next to her, a laughing woman in her mid-thirties was helping the child do a handstand. It was captioned in her father’s handwriting: _Satinalia ’96. “Big” Kendall and “little” Kendall._

“A relative of yours?” Aveline asked, her gaze having followed.

“That’s my godmother.” She went on talking, mostly to fill the silence. “She didn’t have anywhere to go for the holiday that year, and Mother didn’t want her to be alone.”

Another nod. “Is she in Kirkwall, too, then?”

Kendall shook her head. “She died a few years ago. Hit by a drunk driver.”

“I’m sorry.”

Kendall said nothing.

Aveline cleared her throat. “Any progress with getting your identification?”

“None.” Kendall made a face. “You can’t get anything without something else. We’ve tried ordering copies, but of course all the Lothering offices are closed. And the papers here could have been burned for all we know.”

“The new owners wouldn’t let you look?”

“No. I didn’t even have time to explain why I was there before they were shouting at me.” She sighed.

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Aveline said ruefully. “There are rumors about that place, but not enough proof for anyone to get a warrant to go and see.”

Kendall gave her a questioning look. Aveline went on.

“I took a job with the police force here. It’s six months’ training before you’re official, but if I hear anything I’ll pass it on.” She looked thoughtful. “It might be worth petitioning Knight-Commander Meredith.”

“That’s a templar title.” Kendall frowned. “Why would I go to the templars before the police chief?” In Ferelden, the templar order and the police force were two separate branches of the same organization, and rarely overlapped unless a dangerous apostate was at large.

“She’s the power in Kirkwall,” Aveline said simply. “Even the Viscount doesn’t dare go against something she wants. Trust me - I spent years here before I deployed to Ostagar.”

“I wasn’t doubting you,” Kendall said. She pressed a hand to her temple. “I guess…I guess we’ll wait until we can send away to Lothering, if we have to. They don’t have a date to reopen yet. I’ve been checking every day.”

She tried not to think of the predictions she’d read: how Lothering might never recover, how even the most optimistic reports said the land itself would be poisoned for decades to come. Just once, she’d made the mistake of looking for current photos. Whichever reporter had been on the scene had taken a sort of perverse joy in capturing the overrun town’s devastation. Anyone left in Lothering was dead, or close to it. There weren't even people left to run the essential government agencies, from what Kendall could gather. The number was always answered by a pre-recorded message directing you to visit some website if you needed help seeking asylum, or phone back later for other inquiries.

There was a short silence between them before Aveline asked, “What about that witch’s amulet? Did you have a chance to deliver it?”

“Oh.” Kendall grimaced. “She _did_ say the Dalish were already here, didn’t she? We made a trip out to the border camp last weekend, but there wasn’t anyone there.”

Aveline frowned. “Maybe they were delayed. I don’t think nomads keep to a schedule exactly.”

“We can keep checking, when we have time. It’s hours there and back on the bus.” Kendall ran her fingers through her hair. “Do you know if they put any information about the Dalish out for the public?”

Aveline shook her head. “I wouldn’t imagine so. Most of them want to be left alone.” Remembering something, she sat up a little straighter. “I thought your mother grew up here? Have you asked her?”

“She left twenty-five years ago,” Kendall said. “I thought you might have more recent information.”

“Last I was here, there wasn’t anything.” Aveline thought for a moment. “Look, let me see what I can do - both about the Dalish camp and the identification. All right?”

She glanced at the clock, and Kendall took the hint. “All right,” she said “Take care of yourself. I’ll tell Carver you said thanks.”

“Thank you,” Aveline said, standing up. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”

It didn’t occur to Kendall until too late that she should have asked if Wesley would have some kind of service. No one should have to mourn alone, she thought. She’d have to text later and ask.

Bethany hummed tunelessly above the sound of water swishing in the bathtub. She must be washing clothes, Kendall thought, and squashed down the stab of resentment in her chest. Cooking and cleaning might be draining at times, but they weren’t soul-crushing the way a real job quickly became.

_She can’t help it._

Occasional jealousy was a package deal with being the protector of the family, and when you grew up with apostates, you got used to being a human shield. In her case, it was explicit: Father telling her year in and year out that she must be loyal to her family, and especially that she _must_ look after Bethany when he was gone, and never let her be taken to the Circle.

“ _You_ got free,” Kendall had pointed out once.

“It was easier to do in the eighties,” he’d answered. “They have all sorts of new restrictions now. I’m sure I couldn’t do it again.”

She wasn’t sure she believed that even now - enough people managed to get away with it, or at least it sounded that way if you read the news. It didn’t matter, though. The important thing was that they appreciated the delicate position they were all in, and didn’t upset the status quo.

One thing about maintaining the status quo: it made time pass surprisingly quickly, doing the same thing every day. Now and then there was something to remind you of how long it had been, of course. The heat of the farmlands in the summer was one of those, and it made her skin blister and peel something awful. Then there was the rent, which Mother had insisted they shouldn’t have to pay (she’d been outraged that Gamlen even asked, after having sold the estate), and so it was a private arrangement between Kendall, Carver, and their uncle. The weekly phone calls to Lothering offices, which always resulted in listening to the same messages: _“At this time we are closed indefinitely…”_

When Aveline sent the news she’d officially become part of the police force, Kendall realized with a jolt they’d been in Kirkwall for more than half a year already. But even that was only a blip on her radar after another day or so. She didn’t sit up and take notice of things until something really important happened. And it would be over a year from the day they’d arrived in Kirkwall until that happened - something big enough to shake the Hawke family’s world.

* * *

_Thank you for subscribing to Kirkwall News Network! This FREE email subscription delivers the most popular headlines of the week straight to your inbox!_

_Top stories this week:_

_“There’s Nowhere to Go”: 23 Injured in Riots at Border_

_Prenatal Mage-Blood Test Fails Clinical Trial_

_Dumar is “Making Preparations” for Refugee Crisis, Says Seneschal Bran…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Companion codex entry: [Tracking Mages](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25448767/chapters/61723138)


	3. Chapter 3

_2006_

Kendall Hawke @KendallHawke  
Benefits of a new platform: probably the only site where I’ll ever have my real name as a handle.

|

Kendall Hawke @KendallHawke  
Now watch me probably never use it lol.

* * *

_Welcome to the chatroom,_ _**hawkling**!_ _Start typing in the box below._

[hawkling]: Hi

[halofan]: a/s/l?

[hawkling]: 19/f/Kirkwall

[RIGHTBEHINDYOU]: YO

[halofan]: SAME!!! for kirkwall

[emogurl]: XD my lil bro was dancing around my room saying “im a guitar hero god! nobody can beat me!”

[emogurl]: I totally pwned him and he cried sooooooo loud roflmao

[hawkling]: I want that game so much!

[emogurl]: well u can buy it like…anywhere

[hawkling]: Don’t have a PS2 anymore. :’(

[halofan]: Ps2 sux, xbox 360 alllll the way!

[Al0ysha]: How can you compare them when ps3 is NOT OUT YET…moron

[RIGHTBEHINDYOU]: Anyone playing the new Pokemon?

[emogurl]: no waiting 4 translation

[hawkling]: It looks ultra cute.

[RIGHTBEHINDYOU]: Cute is a law in Pokemon

[RIGHTBEHINDYOU]: There’s new competitive mechanics, I’ve been training mons for 30 hours already

[halofan]: you really need a life lol

[emogurl]: SO I HERD U LIEK MUDKIPZ??

* * *

From: Lady Seeker Nicoline  
To: Seeker Luca Holzer

Subject: RE: Connor Guerrin

Luca:

Thanks for the update on this case. Please contact me if Connor’s next examination turns up any readings outside of the normal range, no matter how slight. Otherwise, he can be moved into the custody of the Circle that day as planned. First Enchanter Irving has been briefed on the case and is quite competent at watching for signs of possession. He’ll have a signed NDA for you. Please collect it and fax a copy to me.

No, it isn’t necessary to find a forensic psychologist, as Connor is well below the age of criminal responsibility. However, Irving and I are both concerned about the effect Arlessa Isolde’s sacrifice will have on him, especially as time goes by and reality has a chance to set in. Keep me posted on what you’re doing to connect the family with counseling.

Have a nice weekend!

Nicoline

* * *

Leigh @ghostboat  
Just like that, I have a compound full of oxmen for neighbors. Wtf.

meow @PaperCat  
free kirkwall housing for refugees*.  
*must be qunari.

* * *

**Orlesian Hospital Accepts First Mage Medical Student  
** by Masha Vasiliev

A Val Royeaux hospital attracted controversy this week upon announcing it had accepted the first student with magical abilities into its medical training program.

Established in 1839, Magnolia General Hospital has employed magical consultants from the White Spire for close to thirty years. Now the clinic hopes Eve Surana, 20, will be the first of many to train under its instruction.

“When you look at it objectively, there’s so much untapped potential in the Circles,” said hospital spokesperson Ramiro Mercer. “You’ve got mages who have trained in healing since they were six, seven, eight years old, and they’re barred from standard medical school almost everywhere outside of Tevinter.”

Opponents of the program have expressed concerns about patient consent, as well as whether magical education can be adequately delivered outside of the Circle. Some have also criticized the lack of a lower age limit (a typical first-year resident is no younger than 25).

“This was a decision that took a lot of planning. We’re not building the plane as we’re flying,” Mercer said. “It was a long process involving the medical board, the Grand Enchanter, and several of our most qualified admins. Nobody’s going in uninformed.”

Surana is expected to complete a five-year residency. When asked for comment, a representative from the White Spire stated they have “total faith” in her abilities.

* * *

_Shared by_ **Sunup Gazette** _15 minutes ago_

Just in: Landsmeet dissolves into pandemonium. Read more...

* * *

_You have [1] unread message._

[Aveline]: Fireworks display tonight near the mall in Hightown, followed by candlelight vigil for Blight victims on Sunday. If you want to go, I can give you a ride.

* * *

**Current Topic: 7 REASONS THE FIFTH BLIGHT WAS A HOAX**

_ > buck-an-ear  
_1\. The four Blights lasted, in order: 192 years, 90 years, 15 years, and 12 years. If the fifth Blight was real it would have lasted less than 1 year, which is impossible.

2\. No fighting made it outside Ferelden. Unless someone figured out how to teach the darkspawn to respect borders, they should have escaped in days or weeks.

3\. “Queen Cousland’s” story doesn’t hold up. Look at the family photo they released, which supposedly includes her at 14 years old.

[Image: CouslandFamilyPhoto.png]

Now look at a closeup. SHE WAS OBVIOUSLY PHOTOSHOPPED INTO THIS PICTURE…the shadows are all wrong…for all we know she doesn’t even have a claim to the throne.

[Image: CouslandLieExposed.png]

I wouldn’t be surprised if it turns out this whole thing was a stunt to put two random people in power.

4\. The Wardens are being way too secretive. In every interview, they spend more time dodging questions than answering them. If you had just killed an archdemon, wouldn’t you want to tell people how you did it?

5\. If almost all the Wardens died at Ostagar, they should still be in desperate need of more people. They wouldn’t let two of their best leave to rule Ferelden.

6\. Speaking of Ostagar, in a real battle, ALL the casualties would have been identified as soon as possible. They wouldn’t just look for a few important people...and they would do something about the dozens of cowards who ran away.

7\. The “team” they put together sounds like the setup of a bad joke. They had the resources to gather a team of skilled warriors, but left that for an apostate witch, a bard, an old lady, a drunk, a golem, a criminal qunari, and an assassin? Does that really sound like a group that could defeat a Blight?

That’s my evidence. What do you think?

_> dinomite  
_How can you be this stupid?

_ > pixelephant  
_IDK, I think the Blight happened, but something is weird about Theirin and Cousland. He became a Warden first, so he should be in charge. But look at the videos of them. She’s always making the decisions and he just kind of hangs back.

_ > shinycookie  
_Trollololol.

* * *

**The Redcliffe Observer: Weekly Poll**

Are you planning to watch the royal wedding?

_Yes:_ 47%

_No:_ 34%

_Not sure:_ 19%

* * *

_Shared by_ **Sunup Gazette** _4 hours ago_

Rebuilding Ferelden is expected to take up to 5 years, experts say. Read more...

* * *

_You have [2] unread messages._

[Carver]: LOTHERING SAYS NO REPLACEMENT DOCS UNLESS WE ALREADY HAVE PHOTO ID!

[Carver]: JUST LIKE KIRKWALL...FUCKERS!!!1!

[Kendall Hawke - @Carver] STOP YELLING AT ME

* * *

**New Children’s Show Promotes Elvish Language  
** by Jaclyn Radix

The creators of _Fina Goes Forth_ , a new animated TV show, are hoping it will inspire children and adults alike to take an interest in the Elvish language. Revived by linguists after facing over a millennium of extinction, it’s spoken by an estimated 90,000 people today, not including what is believed to be a large percentage of the Dalish.

In each episode, the titular 7-year-old gently introduces new words and phrases to viewers. The show also focuses on logical thinking skills, with simple riddles for children to solve.

Ava Tabris, the show’s co-writer, hopes it will be valuable in more than one way.

“There are very few shows where you’ll ever see an elven alienage,” Tabris explained. “Fina lives and goes to school there, so naturally we’re showing it all the time. And even though we don’t make a big deal of it, kids have responded really well to that - they’re saying, ‘Wow, she’s like me.’”

New episodes of _Fina Goes Forth_ air Thursdays at 4pm on channel 17.

* * *

INTERVIEWER: We’re thrilled to have you here.

LELIANA: _(Laughs.)_ I can imagine people have been asking. I used to love indulging in magazines like this myself.

INTERVIEWER: Then you can make a guess what we’re all curious about.

LELIANA: I could, but it wouldn’t be any fun without questions to answer.

INTERVIEWER: Let’s get right to it, then. Readers are curious to hear your feelings on two Grey Wardens taking the throne, and how it’s affected your relationship with Her Majesty the Queen.

LELIANA: In practical terms, very little will change. It now concerns Ferelden instead of darkspawn, but the public has already been vying for her attention.

INTERVIEWER: Were you aware before the Landsmeet began that this was the plan? What was your first reaction?

LELIANA: Yes, and it didn’t surprise me. In Orlais, having a mistress to the royal family is quite common.

INTERVIEWER: Things are a little different in Ferelden, though.

LELIANA: I have spent much of my life in the company of nobles.

INTERVIEWER: Of course, of course. And now you’re a veteran. I’m sure the Blight gave you some interesting stories.

LELIANA: I once infiltrated Fort Drakon with a mabari at my side.

INTERVIEWER: That’s something you don’t hear every day.

LELIANA: It helped to have a ballista or two nearby.

* * *

**Current Topic: Darkspawn-Proof Gear Recommendations**

_ > Orzammar_Surfacer  
_I’m taking a group to recover something left in deep darkspawn territory. Looking for recommendations on specific brands of gear and what-have-you.

_ > x_hexyou_x  
_Where exactly are you going? If you’ll be in the Deep Roads, you’ll want helmets with headlamps, padded clothes, coveralls, and an assload of other things you wouldn’t necessarily need otherwise.

_ > SurvivalistPro  
_There’s a detailed gear checklist on my personal blog that will go over basic essentials for every trip. With darkspawn territory, though, you’ll need some extras.

First things first: masks and biohazard gear. This site has the kind of things you’re looking for. Guessing from your username you’re a dwarf, so you’ll have to commission pieces specially. They stock most human and elven sizes, in case that applies to anyone else in the group.

You will DEFINITELY need a good GPS. I recommend this one. Bring a compass and map of the area too just in case.

Mosquito netting. It’s mentioned on the blog; I’m mentioning it again because it’s twice as important in areas with darkspawn.

Bear spray and a bear-proof bag for storing your food and food trash. Even if you don’t expect to run into a grizzly, most bear-proof supplies are darkspawn-proof too.

Lightweight packs to carry your gear. These are good, this is pricier but worth it.

Most importantly, GET THE PRE-EXPOSURE SHOTS. On the chance you do get bitten, it’ll buy you time to get to a hospital. DO NOT SCREW AROUND WITH THIS. THE BLIGHT DISEASE IS 100% FATAL WITHOUT PRE-EXPOSURE.

Enjoy your trip! I’m happy to answer if you have any other questions.

_ > Orzammar_Surfacer  
_x_hexyou_x: Following a lead. Can’t say more.

SurvivalistPro: Good list. Thanks. What about arms?

_> SurvivalistPro  
_I wouldn’t recommend taking guns unless you know exactly what you’re doing. This is different than your standard hunting, and the last thing you want to do is make a diseased animal angry. The chance of exposing yourself to darkspawn blood will also increase significantly whether or not you actually manage to kill one.

_ > hawkling  
_I know something about fighting darkspawn. Can I email you?

* * *

From: Bartrand Tethras  
To: Kendall Hawke

Subject: RE: RE: RE: Darkspawn Territory

Andraste’s tits, human! I gave you my answer. You know how many people want to hire onto this expedition? My team’s already done, and I’m not about to take any chances hiring random humans. This is the sort of venture that can make a man for life.

The “experience” line is old. I don’t care if you tore the horns off an ogre with your bare hands. Find another meal ticket. Messages like yours make me wish I’d never found that forum.

* * *

_You have [1] unread message._

[Carver]: OH, DAMN IT ALL!


End file.
